Awakening is the worst part of the day we all face.
not aware of it and cross the threshold of sleep as beautiful dolls that are moved from one shelf to another.
Yes, I slept badly and wake up was even worse.
are in that state in which the stomach claim to get rid of their ghosts rioters as a plastic bag, forcing me to comment too close to the toilet.
A push and pull between children because I know very well that there is nothing that can be revealed at this time as well as my bile juices and I prefer to cherish them.
The bastard will try again and try to confuse me playing dirty.
In these cases I have to be rational.
why listen to a song that I found on You Tube, so will be an interlude between myself and the time and I can not share it.
Perhaps it is fortunate, for you.
megamondo of the internet where you can find everything is limited to everything that everyone wants.
Take and act and ask yourself what you want different from the others.
I wanted to try a cream in a Sandal meganegozio dell'Erbolario of Lodi, but was the only one who was not there.
The same happens to me when I go to lunch, I have an extraordinary ability in ordering what is not there.
Home also to console the faces sorry for fiction.
"There is no"
"Ok"
"Sorry"
"Never mind"
"Truly"
"Do not worry"
"But ..."
"Do not worry, it's not a problem"
"I leave you the time to look further?"
"No, tell me what you have, let us first."
Repeat the same box each time you go to a tea room or restaurant.
My common sense would dictate the hours I ' use up your ass and put something in the oven to give the party two possibilities:
1) rebels and therefore I'm hungry, like everyone else used to do, once the bread had to stop the casino
2) Process chains of sugar and fat and that just does not decide to limit them I want and this close encounter with the modern ceramic bathrooms.
3) There is no third possibility.
If I had to deal with what I've done over the last two days I find myself writing the diary of a nineteenth-century literary someone from the mold. Saving me the trouble of doing that and you to immerse yourself as a player X to grips with a logbook.
I have faith that you rediscover the facts of my past when I'll talk about that we will face in future speeches. For the logbook to the call should call Lawrence, I write better than me and works with more consistency.
My consistency is that of a lazy Van Vaals, one of the Johan dancers struggling with the thoughts of his moods, or the mirror that Bastiaan smiled to himself thinking about something else.
The part left of me is currently devoted to the prison world, crimes, criminals, prison reform decrees and so the human mind is able to give birth in a vain attempt to bring order, clarity , punishment and redemption.
Like when you are faced with a tarnished silver fork.
We pass a layer of acid that can dissolve the oxidation to restore the soul to shine like the other oxidized, in fact, in maniera differente.
Ossidate in maniera minore per un’esposizione diversa all’aria.
Una bella grattata al corpo fin quando non si scioglie nell’acido in cui la punizione lo immerge.
Sistemi carcerari come alchimisti alla ricerca dell’oro.
I sistemi all’Inglese, all’Irlandese, Auburniani e quant’altro, tutti partono dalla stessa base:
lucidare l’anima.
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